Page 81 of Star-Crossed
He was distressed to realize that the answer didn’t matter.
Because this felt too good. Too natural. Too—
Lyra let go of his hand to root through her bag. Her cell phone jangled somewhere within. As she pulled it out, Cy caught an unintentional glimpse of the screen before she silenced it.
Harrison.
The name made his heart beat harder behind the itchy fabric of his borrowed shirt. Especially when he remembered just how many times that evening she’d already done the exact same thing.
He bit down on the acidic wash of jealousy as they came into full view of the starting line.
And there, already waiting, were Ethan and Darby.
In perhaps the most Ethan move ever, he was dressed in his former sheriff’s uniform, down to the creased khakis and the badge he was supposed to return but had probably been keeping in the drawer with his pristinely folded socks.
Darby, on the other hand, had gone for sexy convict, her black-and-white-striped halter top and ruffled skirt leaving little to the imagination.
Next to them, Gemma, clad in a white toga, rubbed Gabe’s muscular shoulders with the attentive care of a boxing coach, leaning in to whisper something that made him laugh when she reached the waist of his gladiatorial loincloth.
Because of course he’d chosen a costume that required as little clothing as possible.
The tips of Cy’s ears began to burn when they all looked up at his and Lyra’s approach. Ethan’s mouth slid into a firm set.
They hadn’t spoken since the fire.
Not a word. Not a text.
Lyra’s hand found his again, and she squeezed tight as if catching his thoughts in midair.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” she asked out of the side of her mouth.
Cy knew why she was asking. Knew that it had nothing to do with making a spectacle out of himself or starting the rumor mill buzzing.
She was worried about his leg.
“Trying to steal my line?” he teased.
“No, it’s just—”
“O. M. Geeeee. You guys look amazing!” Having abandoned her muscle management duties, Gemma rushed over to hug her sister. “PS,” she said, turning her attention to Cy, “I don’t knowwhatyou did to my sister, but I like it.”
“Um, I’m wearing this costume ironically,” Lyra said, frowning as her cauldron-shaped clutch began to glow and vibrate once more. And not from some magical force.
Cy’s jaw tightened in response.
“Attention, everyone!” Mayor Stewart, somehow even more pompous in the powdered wig, cravat, and waistcoat of an eighteenth-century fop, clapped his hands together as he stepped up to the starting line. “Let’s review the rules before we begin. First and foremost—”
Gemma made a show of miming sticking her finger down her throat to make herself vomit behind the mayor’s back while Lyra’s phone continued to buzz.
“—and all appendages of the partner who is the designated rider must remain completely elevated from the ground at all times in order to avoid disqualification. Points will be awarded for—”
“I’d like to be your appendage’s designated rider,” Cy heard Gemma say to Gabe, who pulled her against his body with a protective forearm.
The gesture was so effortless and comfortable that it made Cy’s chest ache.
Because he wanted what they had. He’d wanted it for much longer than he’d been able to admit. And now, there was no way to un-know.
“On your marks—”
